


Secret, Sacred Saturday Nights

by Benaddicted_Sherlockian



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Teen Sherlock, Teenlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-29
Updated: 2014-04-29
Packaged: 2018-01-21 07:36:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1542803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Benaddicted_Sherlockian/pseuds/Benaddicted_Sherlockian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock had an addiction. A guilty pleasure. John had a dirty little secret. A secret nobody could ever know about. The only time the two boys could forget about everything was on their secret, sacred Saturday nights.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Secret, Sacred Saturday Nights

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic so it's a lil' rusty, feel free to tell me what you think ^.^

Sherlock had an addiction. A guilty pleasure. John had a dirty little secret. A secret nobody could ever know about. The only time the two boys could forget about everything was on their secret, sacred Saturday nights. Their parents would think they were socialising with their piers, their thick, incompetent peers when they were actually meeting up behind the rocks at the beach. For every second they were with each other their problems just melted away. John would get lost in the almost kaleidoscopic eyes of the young boy. John often thought of the longest words he could use to describe Sherlock. Every time he used a new word Sherlock would laugh, he found it so adorable that this 16 year old boy was trying so hard to impress him when he really didn't need to. As John waffled on about his love for Sherlocks deep cheekbones, flocculent hair, cadaverous complexion and statuesque build despite being incredibly lanky Sherlock would just stand and watch the sandy haired boys mouth move at a record speed as he tried to describe Sherlock without getting tongue tied. This always ended with Sherlock having to use his ‘piquant lips’ against Johns to shut him up. Like that they would stay for the rest of the evening. No talking. Just being together, lips united until the sky grew dark.

These secret, sacred Saturday nights were what the boys lived for. At school John was in the rugby team, the only sports team the cheap school ran. Everyone on a sports team had girls flocking at their knees yet no one ever questioned why John never had a girlfriend. This was actually quite convenient, with everyone trying so hard to get laid they didn't even consider the fact that John might actually be gay. If anyone were to find out news would go round like wildfire and if his parents were to find out they'd probably make him move to a different country with a new name or something because they’re melodramatic like that. I didn't matter so much for Sherlock, he was just the weird kid no one talked to. He did have a girlfriend once but that was only so he could get close to the chemistry teacher to prove that the girls only showed interest in Chemistry because they wanted to sleep with the teacher. It was people like that that made Sherlocks faith in humanity so low. That was until he met John.

Their first encounter was at break a few weeks back, John was in rugby practise and had thrown the rugby ball too far, Sherlock had noticed this and calculated where it would land and caught it. The team stood still for a while wondering how the weird kid caught a throw that even the team captain probably wouldn't have been able to make. Sherlock stood still too, wondering why the populars were actually bothering to pay attention to him. Sherlock scanned the team, looking for the kindest looking player and there he was, little John, stood so hunched he was almost curled over like a hedgehog.

“Think fast!” Sherlock yelled, not quite knowing what it mean but he had heard some of the jocks saying it before. Johns reflexes were lightning fast, he caught the ball and the game went on. Sherlock stood for a while watching them before he left to break it to another girl that her boyfriend was cheating on her… again.  
At the end of that day John set out to find the mysterious boy that he had been thinking about ever since the practice.

“Hey, you,” John shouted towards Sherlock who was walking home, he turned around and saw hedgehog-boy shouting at him. This was going to go one of two possible ways, either Sherlock was about to get his brains bashed in for something or this boy wanted a genuine conversation. “You were the one that caught the ball at practice, Right?” Oh god, it was a genuine conversation.

“Erm, Yeah…” Sherlock replied, mildly sweating at the thought of socialising.  
“Why aren’t you on a team? That catch was quite something.”  
“Ive got better things to do,” Sherlock replied. Oh no, was that too snobby sounding?  
“Oh, Well you should do something with those skills of yours,’’ John replied, lightly punching the boys arm. “John, by the way,” He said as he held out his hand to Sherlock. Sherlock could feel his stomach turn, this was the dreaded hand-greeting-thing. Was this a normal hand shake? Or some weird slappy-clappy-punch-explosion hand shake some people do? Should he kiss it? Should he punch it? Before Sherlock could do anything John awkwardly put his hand back in his pocket.  
“Sherlock,” He blurted out “My name.”  
“Sherlock?”  
“Well, technically its William but if you call me that I swear I will-“  
“Don’t worry, I won’t,” John laughed. Their conversation carried on until John reached his house and he asked Sherlock is he was free over the weekend. This was when their secret, sacred Saturday nights began. The first time they met up it was awkward but not at the same time. Gradually the boys got closer and closer until one Saturday Sherlock brought up the question of why John was Girlfriend-less. Silence fell between the two until John replied with “If you dare tell a soul I will make you regret ever catching that damn rugby ball,” He took a deep breath before saying “I don’t swing that way,” before he could see wether Sherlock had run away yet or not he felt a cold, soft kiss against his burning cheek. A bright smile grew on Johns tanned face after he sighed a sigh of great relief.  
Months had passed after that secret, scared Saturday night and still nobody suspected that the girlfriend-less jock and the freak that knows everyones personal business were together. The boys never asked if they were an item or not, it just kind of escalated from one thing to another until they didn't have to confirm if they were together or not they just… were.


End file.
